Thailand
Subversive Archaism: Troubling Traditionalists and the Politics of National Heritage – review
In Subversive Archaism: Troubling Traditionalists and the Politics of National Heritage, Michael Herzfeld considers how marginalised groups use nationalist discourses of tradition to challenge state authority. Drawing on ethnography in Greece and Thailand, Olivia Porter finds that Herzfeld’s concept of subversive archaism provides a useful framework for understanding state-resistant thought and activity in other contexts. A longer version of this post was originally published on the LSE Southeast Asia Blog.
Subversive Archaism: Troubling Traditionalists and the Politics of National Heritage. Michael Herzfeld. Duke University Press. 2022.
“The nation-state depends on obviousness because, in reality, its own primacy is not an obvious or logical necessity at all. It is presented as a given, and most people accept it as such. Implicitly or explicitly, subversive archaists question it” (123).
The excerpt above encapsulates the central thesis of the social anthropologist and heritage studies scholar Michael Herzfeld’s Subversive Archaism: Troubling Traditionalists and the Politics of National Heritage. That being said, that the modern nation-state is widely accepted as the primary unit of territorial and cultural organisation, but that there are a group of people, subversive archaists, who question this rhetoric. Subversive archaism challenges the notion that the nation-state, constrained by bureaucratic organisation and with an emphasis on an ethnonational state, is the only acceptable form of polity. Subversive archaists offer an alternative polity, one legitimised by understandings of heritage that date back further than the homogenous ‘collective heritage’ proposed in state-generated discourses for the purpose of creating a ubiquitous representation of national unity (2). As Herzfeld suggests, subversive archaists instead reach into the past to reclaim older and often more inclusive polities and understandings of belonging, and in doing so, they utilise ancient heritage to challenge the authority, and very notion, of the modern nation-state.
Subversive archaists instead reach into the past to reclaim older and often more inclusive polities and understandings of belonging
Herzfeld examines the concept of subversive archaism through comparative ethnography, drawing on long-term ethnographic fieldwork with two communities: the Zoniani of Zoniana in Crete, Greece, and the Chao Pom of Pom Mahakan, Bangkok, Thailand. At first, the two communities appear geographically and culturally distinctively dissimilar. However, they share one important feature neither country has ever been officially colonised by a Western state. Herzfeld ascribes the term “crypto-colonialism”, a ‘disguised’ form of colonialism, to both Greece and Thailand, as states that despite never being officially colonised, were both under constant pressure to conform to Western cultural, political, and economic demands. Herzfeld explains that such countries place a great emphasis on their political independence and cultural integrity having never been colonised, yet many forms of their independence were dictated by Western powers.
In identifying themselves with the heroic past of the nation state, [subversive archaists] legitimise their own status as rightful members of the nations in which they now find themselves marginalised.
In Chapter Two, Herzfeld explores the historical origins of the images and symbols mimicked by subversive archaists to challenge the dominant, often ethnonationalist, narrative of the nation-state. Subversive archaists ransack official historiography and claim nationalist heroes as their own, and in identifying themselves with the heroic past of the nation state, they legitimise their own status as rightful members of the nations in which they now find themselves marginalised. Rather than reject official narratives, subversive archaists appropriate them, in ways that undermine state bureaucracy. For example, the Zoniani (and many Cretans) do not reject the official historiography of the state, which emphasises continuity with Hellenic culture. In fact, they fiercely defend it, and go one further, by citing etymological similarities between Cretan dialects that bear traces of an early regional version of Classical Greek. In doing so, they make claims that they have a better understanding of history than the state bureaucrats.
Chapter Three explores belonging and remoteness through kinship structures and geographical location. Herzfeld highlights how the nation-state uses the symbolic distancing of communities as remote or inaccessible as a tool to marginalize communities. Pom Mahakan is located on the outskirts of Bangkok, the capital of Thailand, and nowadays Zoniana is accessible by road. Herzfeld argues that the characterisation of these communities as remote and inaccessible is applied by hostile bureaucracies rather than by the communities themselves as an extreme form of intentional political marginalisation.
Zoniani society is still structured by a patrilineal clan system, and Chao Pom society by a mandala-based moeang system. These structures represent an older, and alternative, system of polity to the modern bureaucratic nation-state.
In Chapter Four, Herzfeld proposes that we reframe the assumption that religion shapes cities and instead think about how cosmology shapes polities. In particular, how Zoniani society is still structured by a patrilineal clan system, and Chao Pom society by a mandala-based moeang system. These structures represent an older, and alternative, system of polity to the modern bureaucratic nation-state. For example, the Chao Pom embrace religious and ethnic minorities, arguing that diversity is representative of true Thai society, and that tolerance and generosity are true Thai ideals. The notion of polity itself is the focus of Chapter Five which explores how Pom Mahakan and Zoniana have cosmologically distinct identities that, when conceptualised as part of the same system as the nation-state, both mimic and challenge the state’s legitimacy, thus inviting official violence.
Herzfeld argues that what sets subversive archaists apart from the “state-shunning groups” described by Scott […] is their ‘demand for reciprocal respect and their capacity to play subversive games with the state’s own rhetoric and symbolism’
Herzfeld explains how neither the Zoniani nor Chao Pom fit into the James C. Scott’s concept of “the art of not being governed,” applied to Zomian anarchists who flee from state centres into remote mountainous regions in northeastern India; the central highlands of Vietnam; the Shan Hills in northern Myanmar; and the mountains of Southwest China. Herzfeld argues that what sets subversive archaists apart from the “state-shunning groups” described by Scott, but also makes them representative of a widespread form of resistance to state hegemony, is their “demand for reciprocal respect and their capacity to play subversive games with the state’s own rhetoric and symbolism”. Arguably, the reason that the Zoniani and Chao Pom can demand ‘reciprocal respect’ is related to their ethnic, historical, and cultural affiliation with the majority that marginalises them. The ethnic minorities of Zomia do not benefit from the same types of affiliation.
Ultimately, Herzfeld’s model of subversive archaism offers us an example of understanding how marginalised groups challenge and subvert authority
Ultimately, Herzfeld’s model of subversive archaism offers us an example of understanding how marginalised groups challenge and subvert authority. Herzfeld is not proposing that any given group needs to fit neatly into the category of subversive archaists, but rather how some groups reach back into the past to offer an alternative future. In Chapter Eight, Herzfeld explores the future of subversive archaist communities, and also how subversive archaism might mutate into nationalist, and potentially dangerous, movements. The Chao Pom embrace ethnic and religious minorities on the grounds that acceptance and inclusion are true Thai ideals. However, there are dangers to invoking ideologies attached to ‘true’ ideologies of national cultures and traditions, and other types of communities can utilise the rhetoric of subversive archaism. For example, in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, “antimaskers” use the language of “liberty” and “democracy” against the modern bureaucratic state, seeking to transform the present into an idealised national past.
I was initially sceptical about who qualified as a subversive archaist. At first, the term seemed too rigid, a community had to be marginalised by the state authority, but associate themselves with the majority and use the language of the state to legitimise themselves their alternative polity. Then, the term seemed too broad, it is not specific to a certain geography, ethnic identity, or religion, and can apply to religious and non- religious groups. Subversive archaism might help us make sense of the Chao Pom and the Zoniani, but who are the subversive archaists of the contemporary world? Then, one morning, when listening to a podcast from the BBC World Service covering the inauguration of India’s controversial new parliament building, I heard a line of argument, from the Indian historian Pushpesh Pant, that struck me as being rooted in subversive archaism.
When asked about the aesthetics of the new parliament building, Pant remarked “I think it is a monstrosity… If the whole idea was to demolish whatever the British, the colonial masters, had built, and have a symbolic resurrection of Indian architecture, I would even go, stick my leg out and say Hindu architecture, it should have been an impressive tribute to generations of Indian architectural tradition Vastu Shastra. Vastu Shastra is the Indian science of building, architecture.” He goes on to say: “How does this symbolise India?”
I suspect that given the rise of nationalist movements across the globe, the tools of subversive archaism, rather than subversive archaists groups per se, will become all the more visible.
In invoking the Vastu Shastra, the ancient Sanskrit manuals of Indian architecture, and the Sri Yantra, the mystical diagram used in the Shri Vidya school of Hinduism, Pant demonstrates his deep understanding of ancient Indian architecture and imagery. And in doing so, he highlights the missed opportunities of the bureaucratic state in designing their new parliament building to create a building that was truly representative of archaic Indian architecture. He does what Herzfeld describes as “playing the official arbiters of cultural excellence [here, the BJP] at their own game”. I suspect that given the rise of nationalist movements across the globe, the tools of subversive archaism, rather than subversive archaists groups per se, will become all the more visible.
This book review is published by the LSE Southeast Asia blog and LSE Review of Books blog as part of a collaborative series focusing on timely and important social science books from and about Southeast Asia. This review gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, the LSE Southeast Asia Blog, or the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Main Image Credit: daphnusia images on Shutterstock.
Indigenizing the Cold War: Nation-Building by the Border Patrol Police in Thailand – review
Indigenizing the Cold War: Nation-Building by the Border Patrol Police in Thailand by Sinae Hyun explores the effects of the Cold War on Thailand’s nation-building process, specifically on the transformation of the Border Patrol Police (BPP) from a force supported by the CIA to a civic action agency. Applying the analytical lens of indigenisation, the book vividly describes the interplay between anti-communist mobilisation and nation-building during this period, writes Xu Peng. This post was originally published on the LSE Southeast Asia Blog.
Indigenizing the Cold War: Nation-Building by the Border Patrol Police in Thailand. Sinae Hyun. University of Hawaii Press. 2023.
The main argument of this book is that the Cold War in Thailand was not just an ideological struggle between communism and anti-communism but a complex interplay between local elites and the general populace. The book highlights two key historical continuities: the Thai ruling elite’s collaboration with the US to establish Thailand as a bastion of anti-communism and leveraging US Cold War policies to advance Thai military and royal agendas. This work offers valuable insights into Southeast Asian studies, Cold War history, and political science by exploring the complexities of nation-building and the role of global superpowers in local affairs.
The author astutely observes that the revival of monarchical influence [in Thailand] was not an isolated phenomenon but a strategic move that dovetailed with anti-communist politics during this period [1947-1962]
The first chapter, “From CIA Brainchild to Civic Action Agent, 1947-1962,” serves as a foundational piece, setting the stage for the intricate transformations the Border Patrol Police (BPP) would undergo. The author astutely observes that the revival of monarchical influence was not an isolated phenomenon but a strategic move that dovetailed with anti-communist politics during this period. This alignment of interests between the Thai military and the monarchy was not merely coincidental but rather a calculated strategy that drew substantial support from the United States. This chapter illuminates how international geopolitics and local political imperatives can intersect, thereby mutually reinforcing each other. Moving on to the second chapter, “Building a Human Border, 1962-1980,” the author delves into the complexities of nation-building and bordercraft. The BPP’s initiatives in remote mountainous regions, which included sanitation, health, rural economic development, and narcotics suppression, were not merely civic actions. Rather, they were strategic moves designed to maintain a hierarchical relationship between the hill tribes and mainstream Thai society. Far from aiming to integrate these ethnic minorities into the Thai nation, these activities deliberately kept the highland minorities at arm’s length, serving to legitimise the nation-building process led by the existing ruling elite.
The author argues that [the 6 October1976 Massacre] epitomises how the Thai ruling elite, whether military or monarchy, successfully indigenised American anti-communist strategies to serve their own ends
The third chapter, “The Saga of the Black Panther, 1950-1976,” offers a nuanced look into the Police Aerial Reinforcement Unit (PARU) and its role within the broader framework of the BPP and the Cold War. Initially formed as a CIA paramilitary force, PARU faced existential challenges, particularly when Sarit Thanarat seized power in 1957. In order to survive, the unit was deployed to Laos for clandestine operations, securing US military aid for Thailand in the process. However, when the Laos operation faltered, PARU returned to Thailand as a demoralised unit. At this juncture, the Thai monarchy adopted PARU as an agent of indigenisation and royalist nationalism. The chapter reflects on the complexities of survival, allegiance, and identity. It highlights how local actors like PARU were not merely pawns but active agents in shaping their destinies within shifting geopolitical landscapes. In the fourth chapter, “Crusade from the Borders to Bangkok, 1969-1976,” the focus shifts to the 6 October Massacre, a watershed moment in Thai history. The author argues that this event epitomises how the Thai ruling elite, whether military or monarchy, successfully indigenised American anti-communist strategies to serve their own ends. The formation of the Village Scouts by the BPP and their role in the massacre is a stark reminder of how state-sponsored initiatives can have far-reaching and often devastating consequences. The concluding chapter, “Mission Incomplete,” serves as a reflective epilogue, pondering the long-term impacts of the indigenised Cold War on Thai society. The chapter scrutinises the transformation of King Bhumibol from a traditional royal patron to a modern nation-builder. It also examines the legacies of Thai-style democracy and royalist nationalism, which continue to exert a profound influence over Thai society. The chapter raises pertinent questions about the future role of the BPP, especially given its ambiguous identity constructed during the Cold War era.
The ruling elite engaged in a calculated ‘othering’ process, setting up psychological borders between ‘friend’ and ‘foe,’ ‘us’ and ‘them.’[…] to marginalise political dissidents and others posing threats to the regime, often labelling them as communists irrespective of their actual affiliations
One of the most salient strengths of Indigenizing the Cold War lies in its nuanced understanding of the postcolonial nation-building process. The author compellingly argues that under the aegis of the global Cold War system, nation-building was not merely a territorial project but also a psychological one. The ruling elite engaged in a calculated ‘othering’ process, setting up psychological borders between ‘friend’ and ‘foe,’ ‘us’ and ‘them.’ This strategy was particularly effective as it employed ambiguous criteria to determine who were communists and who were not, thereby consolidating the state’s authority. The ruling class weaponised this ‘othering’ tactic to marginalise political dissidents and others posing threats to the regime, often labelling them as communists irrespective of their actual affiliations. This strategy essentially conditioned the nation to fear and respect the authority of the state, as it was the state that had the ultimate say in meting out punishment or rewards. Additionally, the book offers a unique perspective on communism’s impact on Southeast Asia. The narrative tends to depict communism more as an abstract, distant threat rather than a tangible force with ebbs and flows. This portrayal could be a deliberate choice by the author to underscore how the concept of communism was often manipulated or reconstructed to fit specific narratives.
Another significant strength of the book is its nuanced analysis of the BPP’s role, which the author describes as a ‘symbolic missionary of nationalism’(page 5). The term ‘missionary’ is employed to signify the BPP’s active role in disseminating and reinforcing nationalist ideologies, a role in which it was patronized and emboldened by the Thai ruling elite, particularly the monarchy. The BPP is not merely a security force but a formalised institution that epitomises the collaboration between the United States and the Thai monarchy up to 1974. While the book provides an exhaustive account of the BPP’s role in Thai nation-building, it could benefit from situating the BPP within a broader context. Specifically, the BPP acts as a broker between ethnic minorities and the ruling regime, and it is worth noting that Thailand often employs a more direct form of intervention, particularly in the use of forest land rights in border areas, to complete the state’s control of the border through processes of territorialisation. These top-down processes, like the civic initiatives led by the BPP, are instrumental in nation-building. Therefore, the correlation between the BPP and other state-led initiatives in nation-building should also be considered for a more comprehensive understanding.
While the book does touch upon the bureaucratic hindrances to the assimilation of mountain peoples, as mentioned in Chapter 2, ‘The Human Border,’ it still lacks a comprehensive account of resistance or agency from these communities
The core issue that emerges from the book is its portrayal of nation-building as a largely one-way process, focusing predominantly on the actions and strategies of the state or its agents (or broker), such as the BPP. While the book does touch upon the bureaucratic hindrances to the assimilation of mountain peoples, as mentioned in Chapter 2, ‘The Human Border,’ it still lacks a comprehensive account of resistance or agency from these communities. This absence is significant because it is difficult to gauge the effectiveness of nation-building without considering this component of resistance. The book’s one-sided portrayal simplifies what should be understood as a complex, two-way interaction between the state and the people in ungoverned areas. This leads to a further point of curiosity: Which concept of ‘nation-building’ is the book discussing? Is it the ‘united, progressive nation-state’ that the author describes as challenging to build, or is it a more inclusive concept of the nation? While the author’s final conclusion does reflect on the limitations of the concept of nation-building, it leaves room for further exploration and discussion.
The book excels in its theoretical contributions, particularly the concept of ‘indigenisation.’ […] Compared to the more commonly used term ‘localisation,’ ‘indigenisation’ serves as a more potent analytical tool to highlight the reciprocity involved in creating and sustaining conditions for collaboration and adaptation between the U.S
Lastly, the book excels in its theoretical contributions, particularly the concept of ‘indigenisation.’ The author employs the metaphor of ‘missionisation’ in missiology to elucidate the work and practices of missionaries who aimed not merely to convert indigenous people but also to bring them under their mission’s sphere of influence and control. Compared to the more commonly used term ‘localisation,’ ‘indigenisation’ serves as a more potent analytical tool to highlight the reciprocity involved in creating and sustaining conditions for collaboration and adaptation between the U.S. and its Southeast Asian allies during the Cold War. Significantly, the book integrates this theory of ‘indigenisation’ exceptionally well, particularly in chapters one through five. It demonstrates a progressive increase in the degree of ‘indigenisation,’ culminating in the 6 October Massacre, representing the apex of full ‘indigenisation.’ This observation adds another layer of depth to our understanding of how the theory is not just static but evolves and intensifies over time, thereby enriching our understanding of Cold War dynamics in Southeast Asia.
This book review is published by the LSE Southeast Asia blog and LSE Review of Books blog as part of a collaborative series focusing on timely and important social science books from and about Southeast Asia. This review gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, the LSE Southeast Asia Blog, or the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Main Image Credit: Wasu Watcharadachaphong on Shutterstock.
Chiang Trikes
Last Post from Thailand.
The human powered pedal thing in Thailand are next level
Our first night in Chiang Mai was pretty stressful but the rest of our trip has been awesome. Before going home we will travel down south to learn how to SCUBA dive.
I have been sending pictures of the bikes to Cheri. She wrote back,
Please bring me home a trike, like that one. I promise I’ll give you a ride down to ‘Bambi’ on it.
I edited these to highlight their awesomeness
I mean, look at this thing in its ramshackle brilliance
I would really love one of these to ride around Sawtell on.
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to fit it on the plane.
Bum
At the gym Ev and I went to there’s a dog called Bum. Bum is on one of the videos. He was much like this dog which we saw in town one day. Kind of ugly but proud of it.
Bum is one of the dogs that lives at Lanna Muay Thai. Like most Thai dogs, Bum has the wonderful ability to lay around and lick his balls all day. He remains relaxed regardless of the crazy traffic or fight training going on all around him.
here is a little video of Bum demonstrating his inner Zen:
Your browser doesn’t support HTML5 video. Here is a link to the ‘Bum the dog’ video instead.
Tired out again today - usual stuff.
- A.M. Train
- Eat
- Sleep
- P.M. Train
Here is a video of Ev doing some pad-work:
Your browser doesn’t support HTML5 video. Here is a link to the ‘Pad Work’ video instead.
Wong kicks him in the head.
It even has bit in the middle with me flapping about like a wet hen.
Chiang Mai Computer Shop
Riding around Northern Chiang Mai earlier today I passed this and another of my interests was piqued:
A computer shop in Chiang Mai
I woke the owner up, he spoke a little english and said that We Open Source people should stick together and share the knowledge. He looked a bit sleepy so I let him toddle back to bed.
Zoo
Ev in his element in Chiang Mai
Ev has flaked out on the bed. We went to training this morning, and followed that with a trip to the Zoo. I had been looking for an excuse to hire Noi’s Songtaw. Noi and her partner (Nuu-ie, I think) looked after Evan when he got lost on our first night in Chiang Mai, see my last post.
So the Zoo was Zoo-ey. Animals needlessly imprisoned and all that. The biggest drawcard for the Zoo was a newly born Panda. So we skipped that and followed a heap of Thai’s into ‘The Snow Dome’. We had no less than three safety briefings and everyone had to don protective gear. I got in trouble because I did not put on the allotted snow boots. Then we were taken into an airlock and given one last briefing before being led into a room. It was about the size of a tennis court and full of snow and some plastic frozen pandas. Everyone went wild and squealed, then ran around like dills. It was nice to escape the midday heat for ten minutes.
Your browser doesn’t support HTML5 video. Here is a link to the ‘Lanna Muay Thai’ video instead.
Ev was buggered by the time Noi dropped us home. So he has been reading and is now sleeping. I went to training and am now sore, tired and hungry. Time to wake him up I think….
Knackered
It has been hot and sweaty at training tonight. A few of our club are going to Loiktroh for a fight tonight. I think Ev and I will give it a miss. We are pretty stuffed.
We did go to Loiktroh. It was a memorable fight.
The Japanese kid got really smashed it was actually pretty awful to watch. But go ahead and click the video link if you like seeing young lads kicking the shit out of each other - Loiktroh.avi
Here is some of the stuff Ev and I have been up to today. He is much better at the exercises than me.
Your browser doesn’t support HTML5 video. Here is a link to the ‘Exercises’ video instead.
Doi Suthep
This was us in Bangkok at the beginning of our trip.
We saw a huge beautiful butterfly whilst exploring some waterfalls up at Doi Suthep. Evan also managed to snap a picture of a black dragonfly.
Later in the evening we revisited the Sunday walking markets and had a lovely time trying all the little snacks. Unfortunately by the time we found the freshly cooked insect stall I was full up. At least I know where to find it next week. Yum.
Wong
Evan in he ring with Wong
Day 2 of our Muay Thai training and I am sore all over. My old bones are showing the wear and tear they’ve had over the years. After this mornings training we took the scooter for a ride around town.
Your browser doesn’t support HTML5 video. Here is a link to the ‘Scooter Commute’ video instead.
Ev was very scared riding round the corners. He does not like leaning.
Chiang Mai
Our first night in Chang Mai was pretty much a gi-normous stuff up. Ev and I got seperated in a crowd and did not manage to find each other again for about 4 very scary hours. The Chiang Mai tourist police, who are volunteers that work closely with the normal police helped look for him. I scoured those bloody markets from top to toe with the help of half the city watch for four hours.
The Tourist Police were very reassuring and explained that clueless tourists like me are always mislaying children, grandmothers and deaf uncles. Several times a week. At the time I must admit I did not feel very reassured.
As it happened Evan did what I sort of knew, deep down, exactly what he would do. He ran off in the opposite direction that we were walking and found a place none of us had been to. He waited for a short while then walked off into the city until eventually he decided to flag a taxi. He had no idea where to go so the poor taxi drove him around on a general sort of tour. Eventually the Taxi driver and his family (they were all onboard) took Ev to the police and we were all happily reunited.
So, if you are ever in Chang Mai let the police know that the volunteer tourist police are the best and always get your taxi rides with Noi on 0861806417
Today was a fine day. We bought a SIM card each and are now both trackable by mobile phone. No more getting lost! Cheri called us and she gave me a right good bollocking. I’m a bad man. Then we borrowed a motorbike and drove all over the city so that we could NOT get lost anymore. We finally had a late lunch up in the hills above Chang Mai. Out of the city surrounded by trees and water and it was lovely.
We also tracked down our Muay Thai School and have made a tentative time to start training.